Detour
by 3rdgal
Summary: Charlie and Don get sidetracked on the way home.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters and I don't make any money off of them.

**A/N:** I'd like to thank my wonderful, tireless beta, ritt, for all of her help!

_Left, right, left, right,_ Charlie silently chanted in his head as he studied his feet. He had to push himself more and more to keep them moving. His energy was flagging, a combination of the pain in his knee and head, the hot afternoon sun beating down on him, and the ever increasing weight of his load. Grunting with effort, Charlie shifted the arm he held over his shoulders, wincing as his companion hissed in pain. He glanced to the side and took in the other man's pale and pain-lined features. "Sorry, Don," he whispered.

Don slowly blinked but made no effort to speak and Charlie didn't really expect him to. He was surprised that Don was even half-awake and on his feet, albeit heavily supported by his younger brother. After everything they'd been through, Charlie was determined they would both make it okay even if he had to carry his big brother all the way to safety.

Charlie's injured right knee suddenly buckled and he struggled to regain his balance while keeping Don upright. He succeeded but his efforts elicited a cry of pain from his brother that tore at Charlie's heart. "I'm so sorry," he soothed, watching as Don's face went impossibly paler. "Stay with me, okay?"

Don nodded, both men realizing too late that it was a mistake. Don's face took on a greenish tint and Charlie felt his body tense. He quickly but gently eased his big brother to his knees, supporting him by the shoulders as he lost what little remained of his lunch. Don's vomiting seemed to go on forever, eventually turning into dry heaves as his stomach was finally emptied. He sagged in Charlie's arms and closed his eyes, the absolute last of his reserves drained.

"Don," Charlie spoke to him as he knelt at his brother's side. Charlie lifted his face to examine him more closely and his heart broke at the red flush in Don's cheeks and the beads of sweat on his brow. He cupped Don's face in his hands and frowned at the heat radiating from him as he stared into his glassy eyes. "Oh Don," Charlie whispered plaintively as he dropped down to sit next to the older man. He gently eased Don to a sitting position and then guided him to lie down, cradling his head in his lap. "We'll take a break for a minute, okay?" Charlie dug in the bag he'd been carrying and pulled out a small bottle of water. "Drink this for me Don." He lifted his brother's head, hating how heavy and lifeless it felt in his hands, and tipped the bottle of water to his lips. Charlie slowly let the water trickle into Don's lax mouth and gently massaged his throat to encourage him to swallow. He capped the water and began to stroke Don's sweat soaked hair as he surveyed their surroundings.

Charlie saw nothing but mountains and sloping valleys all around him, and the bright sun in the afternoon sky. He squinted up at it, idly wondering what time it was and how much longer they had until nightfall. He would have checked his watch, but it had been another casualty of their accident.

He was drawn away from his thoughts as Don moaned and tried to roll over. Charlie placed a restraining hand on his uninjured shoulder and whispered to him. "Shh, lie still." He slid his hand to rest on Don's chest, right over his heart, and left it there. He was relieved to be able to feel both the rise and fall of his brother's chest as well as his heartbeat. Don seemed to settle under his touch so Charlie began rubbing light circles to further soothe him. "We'll rest a little longer and then we need to try to go a bit further," Charlie whispered, although he might as well have been talking to himself as unaware as Don was.

"…'Kay," Don weakly murmured.

Charlie's eyes widened and his spirits lifted at the sound of his brother's voice. "You with me, then?"

"For now," Don's voice was so faint that Charlie could barely make it out.

"Good," he said. "Save your strength, though – you're going to need it."

His brother gave a faint nod, turning his cheek to press against Charlie's leg, and the younger man frowned at the heat he felt there. Don was hot – too hot – and Charlie had no idea how long it would be until he could get them help. He eyed the pack sitting next to him, debating on whether or not he should offer Don more water. His brother was becoming dehydrated, but their supply was limited and Charlie had no idea how long he needed to try to make it last. He fought down a sudden urge to panic, turning his thoughts instead to how they'd gotten here in the first place.

--

"Donny! My little angel!"

"Hello, Aunt Irene," Don greeted her as she enveloped him in a tight embrace. Charlie grinned at the forced smile on his brother's face, his own expression faltering as the elderly woman turned her attention to him.

"And my baby boy, Charlie!" She plowed into him as she hugged him, and Charlie glared at the laughing expression on Don's face.

"Hello, Aunt Irene." Charlie tried to slip out of her embrace, but she deftly kept her grip on him as she reached up and touched his hair.

"You've never heard of a barber, my dear boy?"

"I like my hair like this," Charlie protested, finally freeing himself of her suffocating grip. "Besides," he added with an evil smile. "We can't all maintain that professional FBI agent hairstyle."

"Oh," Aunt Irene cried in alarm as she turned back to Don. "Are you still in that dangerous job? I thought I told you to find something else, Donny."

Don glared at Charlie before fixing his aunt with his most charming smile. "I like my job. I like helping people."

"Lawyers help people, too," she pointed out. "I believe the pay is better, _and_ they don't have people shooting at them. Tsk, tsk." She shook her head hopelessly and grabbed each of her nephews by the arm, hauling them along with her through throngs of Eppes family members. "Never mind those things for now. We have a feast to enjoy!" Irene deposited them at a table for six that was currently unoccupied. "Now, let me find your father. Oh Alan!" she called as she bustled off into the crowd.

"How did we let Dad talk us into this?" Don groaned. "An Eppes family wedding."

"Because he knows how to push our buttons," Charlie grumbled back. "Just look at the bright side, we only have..." He paused to check his watch. "Three more hours."

"Is that all?" Don rolled his eyes.

Charlie ignored the sarcasm and read the nameplates on the table. "Ellen, George, and their son, Paul." He sighed. "This just keeps getting better and better."

Don laughed. "You're still mad at Paul for putting gum in your hair when you were seven?"

"I still maintain that it was an ingenious plot thought up by Aunt Irene to get me to cut my hair."

"Paranoid," Don leaned over and whispered teasingly. "Look it up in the dictionary, Chuck."

"You're so funny," Charlie shot back as he shoved Don's shoulder. His anger dissolved as Don swayed unsteadily on the chair. "Are you okay?"

Don took a deep breath and nodded. "Just been a little dizzy this afternoon."

"Then why did you come?" Charlie asked with concern.

The light-headedness passed and Don smiled. "Because Dad would have thought I was making it up. Besides, it comes and goes." Seeing the doubtful look in Charlie's eyes he lowered his voice. "I'm fine, Charlie. Don't worry, okay?"

Although still concerned, Charlie nodded as he glanced around the banquet hall. "Where _is_ Dad anyway?"

"Probably at home laughing his butt off because we're here and he somehow got out of it," Don mumbled.

"That would be too rotten, even for-" He abruptly stopped as he heard Aunt Irene's bellowing laughter growing nearer.

"Oh Alan, you still make me laugh!"

The brothers' faces lit up as Irene dragged her latest captive to the table. Alan saw their expressions and gave them a warning look as the elderly woman pushed him into a chair. "Ah, now all of my favorite Eppes boys are here! Wonderful!" She again disappeared into the crowd, no doubt to wrangle Ellen, George, and Paul.

"Hello, Dad," Don's eyes twinkled as he spoke.

"Not a word," Alan warned him. "We just eat, pretend to be merry, and then we're out of here."

"Works for me," Charlie agreed.

Alan eyed Don in silence for a moment. "Are you okay, Don?"

Charlie turned his attention to his brother and was shocked to see that Don had lost some of the color in his face in the past few minutes.

"I'm fine." Seeing his father's hand making a move, Don quickly added, "Okay, I might have picked up a bug from work." He batted his father's hand away from his forehead. "But it's nothing serious."

"Are you sure, Donny?" Alan glanced at his youngest son. "Charlie can drive you home if you're not feeling well."

"I will be fine, Dad." Don grinned. "You two worry too much, you know that?"

"Still..." Alan trailed off. "If you need to leave-"

"I'll let you know," Don promised. "Now, let's just have a good time."

--

Charlie sighed as he wondered 'what if'. What if he'd noticed Don wasn't feeling well earlier? What if he'd insisted they leave right then? What if-

"Charlie," Don's hoarse voice called to him.

He glanced down at his brother who was still resting in his lap. "Yeah, Don?"

"Think we should go."

It was then that Charlie realized the sun was dropping closer to the horizon, and nightfall wasn't too far away. "Yeah, we should. Let me check your side first." He gently lifted Don's shirt and peeked under the makeshift bandage wrapped around his stomach. The deep gash in Don's right side was still leaking blood, but at least it wasn't actively bleeding anymore. "Okay," Charlie said as he covered the wound back up. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Charlie nodded and gently lifted Don's shoulders, trying to keep most of the pressure on Don's uninjured one, so that he was sitting upright. Charlie quickly leaned against his brother as Don dangerously swayed, eventually steadying as the dizzy spell passed. "You okay?"

Don didn't waste his energy speaking, just gave a slight nod.

"Okay." Charlie stood, slid the pack onto his back, and slipped his arms underneath Don's. "Up!" he called out as he hoisted him upward. Don weakly pushed with his legs and they soon had him on his feet, although leaning heavily on Charlie. Don quietly moaned as a wave of fire erupted in his injured right shoulder and panted as he tried to adjust to the sudden change in position. Charlie whispered soothingly to him. "Take your time. Let me know when you're ready."

"Let's go."

Charlie slung Don's left arm over his shoulders and held it there with his left hand, while gripping Don's waist with his right. He slowly stepped forward, waiting as Don awkwardly followed suit. They eventually got into a rhythm, but – to Charlie's dismay – they were moving at an even slower pace than before. _I wonder if we're ever going to make it out of here,_ he thought despondently. He glanced at Don's face and memories of all the times Don had looked out for him flashed through his mind. His determination bolstered, Charlie set his jaw and eyed the rugged terrain ahead of them. _Yep, we'll make it – if it's the last thing I ever do._


	2. Chapter 2

Alan arrived home and frowned as he saw the empty driveway. Surely his sons should've been home by now. Unless Don had started feeling worse and Charlie had managed to talk him into going to the doctor. _Right,_ Alan sarcastically thought to himself. _I'm sure that's it. Maybe Don talked him into going to his apartment and Charlie offered to stay to make sure he was okay._ Alan climbed out of the car and entered the darkened house.

He looked for any notes that Charlie might have left on the entryway table but found none. He checked for messages on the answering machine but there weren't any. Though he didn't remember his phone vibrating, Alan pulled it out and looked for missed calls or voicemails. Again, he came up empty. _Where are those two?_ he wondered as his worry began to grow.

Alan sighed as he studied Charlie's cell in his hand. His youngest son had the worst habit of forgetting it wherever he went. He tried Don's cell and frowned as it went straight to voicemail. "Okay," he spoke aloud to himself. "Now I'm officially worried."

Alan made his way to his office and pulled out his list of emergency contacts, quickly scanning the list until his finger landed on David Sinclair's number. He punched it into the phone and impatiently waited for the agent to pick up.

"Sinclair."

"David," Alan answered with relief.

"Hey, Mr. Ep- I mean, Alan," the young man answered in delight. "How are you?"

"Not too good, David," Alan informed him. "Not too good at all."

"What's going on?"

"Don and Charlie and I went to a relative's wedding tonight," Alan began. "Don wasn't well and he kept getting worse, so I sent him home with Charlie."

"Oh yeah," David replied thoughtfully. "You know, Colby got sick too. Come to think of it, he and Don ate at some seafood place last night. Maybe it's a touch of food poisoning?"

Alan's concern quickly grew. "Neither one of them are here yet, and they left two hours before I did. Charlie left his cell with me, but I've tried calling Don and he's not answering."

"Okay, Alan," David said calmly. "I'll swing by Don's apartment and see if they're there and just not answering."

"And if they're not there?" Alan pressed.

"I'll start calling local hospitals and see what I can find out. Tell you what, I'll go ahead and get Megan to start doing that."

"I hate to be a bother..."

"No bother at all," David promised him. "I'm happy to help. I'll call you back when I know more."

"Thanks," Alan said as David hung up. Alan began pacing across the living room. He felt a little better now that Don's team was helping, but he still had a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong.

--

"Time to rest again," Charlie panted, bringing himself and Don to a halt.

"Should… keep going," Don weakly insisted.

"No," Charlie told him. "It's getting too dark for me to see, and the last thing we need is another fall down the side of the mountain." He studied Don's face in the dusky light. "And you need to rest before you collapse," he added softly, his voice full of worry.

"Can't argue… with that."

Charlie's heart skipped a beat at his brother's open admission but he quickly swallowed his concern. He scanned the area for somewhere to rest, finally settling on a patch of soft grass next to a small cluster of trees. "Over there," he said, nodding at their destination. "Just a few more feet."

"…'Kay," Don sighed wearily.

Charlie led him to the spot and gently lowered him to rest on his knees. He held him steady as he patted the ground, making sure there were no sharp objects or feisty fauna lurking in their chosen site. Satisfied that they were in no danger, he slowly eased Don to lie on his back and sat next to him. Charlie dug into his pack and removed the water and the bag of leftovers he'd taken from the wedding. Rolling the pack up into a ball, he carefully slid it under Don's head. "How's that?"

"Good, thanks."

Charlie uncapped the water bottle and held it to Don's lips, frowning when Don turned his head away. "You need to drink."

"I'll be sick."

"You need to try to stay hydrated," Charlie half-insisted, half-begged.

"No good if it comes back up."

"Please," Charlie pleaded. He persistently pushed the bottle against Don's lips and was relieved when Don finally opened his mouth and accepted a swallow.

"No more," Don told him as he turned his head away. "And be ready to help me up." Charlie nodded and started to put the cap back on when Don's tired but angry voice spoke. "You need to drink, too."

The younger man froze, not realizing that Don had been aware enough to notice that he hadn't been drinking. "You need it more," he protested.

"No," Don said with as much force as he could muster. "You're doing all the work. You need it more."

"But-"

"I won't make it if you don't," Don quietly pointed out. "You know that's true."

Charlie tried to ignore his brother's statement. He _did_ know that was true, but it meant he had to face the very real possibility that Don – or both of them – might not make it out of this situation alive. And he wasn't ready to accept that. "Okay," he relented as took a couple of swallows. He capped the bottle and set it down, turning his attention to the leftovers in the bag. "Can you eat?"

"Not a chance."

"Alright," Charlie sighed. He knew Don probably would throw up whatever he ate, so he didn't force the issue. "Don't mind me then." He quietly snacked on leftover chicken, feeling guilty as he ate in front of his brother.

"…'S good," Don spoke softly. "Keep your strength up."

"You should get some sleep," Charlie gently told him. "We'll get moving again in the morning."

"…'Kay." Don fell silent so long that Charlie thought he'd finally drifted off. But his brother's voice whispered again. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Yes," Charlie stated firmly.

"Good." Don was quiet again and soon his breathing evened out as he slept.

"At least I hope I do," he faintly whispered to his brother's sleeping form.

--

"Hello?" Alan answered the phone on the first ring.

"Alan," David greeted him solemnly. "Don's not at his apartment and no one has been admitted to any of the area hospitals under either his or Charlie's name. I think it's time we organized a search."

Alan sat in a stunned silence as David's words sank in. They were out there somewhere, lost or injured? And Don was already sick...

"Alan?" David called loudly.

"Sorry," he answered as he snapped out of his daze. "A search sounds good."

"Okay. We'll set up a headquarters at the banquet hall where you had the reception. And I'll need you to map out the exact route you think they would have taken home. Start working on that and I'll send Megan by to pick you up." David paused as Alan remained silent. "We will find them, Alan."

"Thank you, David."

"I mean it."

"I know you do." Alan fought to control the emotion in his voice. "I'll get started on that route."

As David disconnected, Alan unfolded and studied his map. His heart sank as he realized a lot of the drive home was through some treacherous mountain roads. His mind began conjuring up all sorts of worse case scenarios, but Alan quickly shoved them aside as he began tracing the route his sons would have taken. Despite his best efforts, memories of the dinner began playing in his head.

--

Alan looked up as Don walked – no, staggered – back to their table after his fourth trip to the bathroom. "Are you sure you don't want to leave?" he heard Charlie ask.

Alan studied his oldest son's pale, sweaty face. "Donny, you look terrible."

"Thanks for the support," he grumbled as he collapsed into his chair. "I'll be-"

"I swear you had better not say fine, Don Eppes." Alan threatened as he leaned across the table and placed his hand on Don's forehead. "You're burning up!"

"Okay, so I'm a little hot," Don admitted. He took a deep breath and sank even farther into the uncomfortable chair. "Maybe going home wouldn't be a bad idea."

Alan and Charlie exchanged worried glances, looking up as Don chuckled. "What's so funny, young man?" Alan demanded.

"I have some sort of stomach bug and you two act like I'm dying," Don told him. "I'll be fine, I just don't think I can sit here much longer." He wearily dug his keys out of his pocket.

"Take your brother home, Charlie." Alan said, snatching the keys from Don's hand. "He's in no condition to drive."

Charlie nodded solemnly as he accepted the keys. Alan expected Don to make some smart remark about his brother's driving but his oldest son merely said, "Just be careful."

"I'll help you get him to the car," Alan said as he started to stand.

"No!" Don protested. "I'm not _that_ sick. I can walk out of here on my own two feet." To prove his point he stood and fought off a wave of dizziness. Once he was certain he wasn't going to fall down, he smiled at his father. "See?"

Alan ignored him and looked at Charlie. "Take him to the house – not his apartment. He needs bed rest and TLC."

"_Dad_," Don groaned.

"I will," Charlie nodded as he lightly gripped Don's elbow and nudged him toward the exit. "Tell Aunt Irene that we're sorry we have to leave early."

"I would," Alan said wryly. "But it'd be a shame to lie to her on such a joyous occasion."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

"Charlie!"

Charlie awoke to Don's quiet but desperate cry. He scrambled to a sitting position and looked at his brother in the moonlight. "Don?"

"…Sick."

Charlie acted quickly, rolling him onto his left side and elevating his shoulders. He winced as wave after wave of paroxysms coursed through Don's body. His brother finally rid himself of the water from earlier and continued dry heaving for several more minutes. When he was sure Don was finished, Charlie carefully rolled him back onto his back, gently wiping his mouth with the hem of his dress shirt.

"Told you," Don whispered.

"I was hoping you were wrong." Charlie tenderly brushed his hand over his brother's hair as he found himself willing him to get well. Suddenly he felt that there was a very real possibility that Don might not make it. Tears stung his eyes but Charlie kept his focus on Don, bringing his free hand to rest on his brother's stomach. He lightly massaged the tense muscles there and allowed himself a small smile as the other man sighed in relief.

"Feels good," he murmured thankfully.

Charlie nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak as emotions swirled in his mind. He felt himself cracking under the weight of them and slowly eased forward until he was resting just over Don. His hands stopped their movements and he gathered Don in an awkward embrace. "You're going to be okay," Charlie spoke softly in his brother's ear, not sure if he was asking Don or telling him.

"I'll do my best," Don whispered back, and Charlie felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer. "I won't give up – I can promise you that."

Charlie pressed his face against Don's chest and nodded. "Then I won't either."

They held the awkward embrace until Charlie had gotten his emotions back under control. He pulled back and smiled down at Don, his confidence back in full force. "Sleep a little more," Charlie told him. "I _will_ get us out of here in the morning."

Don smiled and placed his hand on Charlie's knee, lightly squeezing before allowing himself to fall asleep. Once he was certain his brother wasn't awake, Charlie focused on his own injuries. He'd been doing a very good job of hiding them from Don, but they were starting to really hurt.

Charlie slid his dress pants above his knee and gently prodded at the swollen purple flesh. He bit back a hiss of pain as he decided that his knee was, in fact, getting worse. He only hoped it would hold out long enough for him to get Don to safety. Charlie trailed a finger through his curls until he found the painful, swollen lump hidden there. He suspected that it was responsible for his near constant headache, slightly blurry vision, and bouts of dizziness. All in all, Charlie was proud of how well he was keeping his own injuries hidden from Don. His brother certainly didn't need anything else to worry him at this point.

Charlie found himself yawning and stretching, biting his lip as his stomach twinged in pain. He knew he had one heck of a bruise there, but it was better than what could have happened if he hadn't been wearing his seatbelt. He shuddered as memories of the crash assaulted his mind...

He drove slowly – ten miles under the speed limit – as he navigated the sharp twists and turns of the mountain road. He kept stealing nervous glances at Don, who was practically passed out in the passenger's seat. Charlie was worried at how sick his brother seemed to be, and – if Don wouldn't have killed him – he would have called an ambulance long ago.

"I'm fine," Don spoke with his eyes closed, seeming to read his younger brother's mind. "Just concentrate on your driving."

"I am," Charlie replied, rather defensively. "But I can worry and drive at the same time."

Don ignored him and Charlie kept his eyes straight ahead as they came to a sharp bend in the road. He carefully braked and began turning the wheel to ease the SUV into the curve. As they were almost out of it, a deer darted into the road and froze in the path of the heavy vehicle. Charlie's hands tightly gripped the wheel as he instinctively swerved to avoid the animal. The top-heavy SUV's tires squealed in protest and the truck lurched to the side, threatening to flip. Charlie quickly yanked the wheel in the other direction in a desperate attempt to keep them upright.

"_Charlie!_" Don called out.

Charlie looked up and saw the edge of the road, sans guardrail, looming ahead of them. He tried to steer the SUV back onto the road, but it was too late as its front tires left the road.

Unconsciously, Charlie held his breath as the truck plummeted down the side of the mountain, falling faster and faster, its tires occasionally bouncing against the rocky slope. He saw the ground rushing up to meet them and began saying prayers for their safety. They were interrupted by a loud groan of metal and the sound of glass shattering. Charlie's head slammed into something and his world started to fade to black. Concern for Don's well being flooded his brain but before Charlie could look to the seat beside him, he sank into oblivion...

Charlie glanced down at Don sleeping beside him. He supposed it was nothing short of a miracle that they had walked away from the crash alive. Now all they had to do was find help before their injuries caught up with them.

--

Alan watched as David and Megan hovered over the hood of their car, mapping out a search grid to cover the route in the mountains. Colby was leading another group of agents in searching the city roads. He fiddled with his glasses as he silently urged them to work faster. Coming to an agreement, the two agents summoned the other members of the search team and doled out instructions.

"We'll divide up into five teams of two," Megan told them. "Each team will be responsible for a two mile stretch of road. I know it seems like a lot, but we're short handed for now. Just be thorough and radio the second you have anything. Any questions?" No one spoke. "Alright then, see David for your assignments." Megan turned and approached Alan.

"Why are you short handed?" Alan demanded.

"All of these agents are here as volunteers," Megan told him. "Remember, Don and Charlie haven't even been missing for twenty-four hours yet. Once Don fails to show up for work tomorrow morning I'll be able to argue for more resources – hopefully even a helicopter. For now this is just a group of friends searching for a lost loved one."

"In the dark," Alan sighed hopelessly.

"Yes, but these guys know what they're doing," Megan assured him. "They know the signs to look for to tell if a car has gone off the road. You've got the best of the best here."

David issued orders to the last of the team and joined Megan and Alan. "Okay, they're off. I saved the closest section of road for you and me, so we can get back here in a hurry if we need to. Remember Alan, keep your phone and the radio on and with you at all times. Since you're staying here, you've sort of become our search coordinator by default."

"Fine with me," Alan nodded. "Please, just go find my boys."

--

Charlie woke suddenly, not sure of what had disturbed his sleep. He listened closely in the darkness, but the only sounds he heard were Don's soft breaths beside him. Propping himself on his elbow, Charlie gazed down at his brother and tried to make out his features in the moonlight. He squinted in the murky darkness and realized that Don was shivering badly. Alarmed because the night air was quite comfortable, Charlie placed a hand on his brother's forehead. "Oh God," he breathed as he felt the heat pouring from him. "Don? Can you hear me?" Don's only response was an unintelligible mumble as he restlessly tossed his head.

Charlie stared helplessly at his trembling brother and tried to decide what to do. He knew Don had a fever and that his body's shivering was increasing his temperature, but should he try to warm Don up to stop the chills or cool him off to lower the fever? As indecision ran rampant in his sleepy brain, Don suddenly cried out his name. "I'm here, Don," Charlie whispered. He made his decision and lay back down next to his older brother, carefully pressing their bodies together. Charlie held him close as he soothingly whispered. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you." Gradually the tremors stopped and Don lay still in his embrace. Charlie sighed with relief and buried his face in Don's shoulder, offering up another silent prayer for help.

--

The sun was just peeking out from behind the horizon when David's radio squawked. "Found something," the tinny voice reported.

"Go ahead," David radioed back.

"Agent Tyler in grid three, sir," the voice informed him. "I've got a lot of skid marks down here." He paused. "One set leads over the edge of the drop off."

"Damn," David swore as he met Megan's eyes. "Can you see anything at the bottom?"

"Too dark," Tyler said. "Plus, it looks like this part of the edge is part of an overhang. I'm not sure I could see anything even if the sun was up. Chopper would be nice."

"Yeah," David agreed. "It would. Wait there and Megan and I will be down there in a minute."

"Roger that, sir."

"I'm coming, too," Alan's voice called out over the radio.

"Alan-"

"Try to stop me," he growled.

David shrugged at Megan. "Just be careful that you don't hit any of us," he radioed back. He saw the concern in the other agent's eyes. "Let's hope it's them, and they're just hanging out somewhere nearby, with a really interesting story to tell."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Far away from the searchers, the two Eppes brothers slept – one restlessly as fever wracked his body, the other twitching as he dreamed, remembering what had happened to them...

Charlie came to and immediately regretted it. His head was pounding so badly that he was certain he'd cracked his skull open. He raised a hand and cautiously probed the back of his head, hissing as he encountered a large goose egg. He was relieved when his fingers came away clean. Charlie blinked in an attempt to clear his vision and was finally able to make out the interior of the SUV. _Don!_ Charlie shifted in his seat to face him but abruptly halted as his right knee protested the movement. He gritted his teeth and finished twisting his body until he could see his brother, immediately wishing that he hadn't.

Don was slumped in the passenger seat, his head resting against the window and his shoulder sagging in an unusual manner. Charlie's gaze moved lower and his breath caught in his throat as he saw blood staining Don's white dress shirt. He quickly reached out and felt for a pulse, holding his breath until he found it. Charlie knew that Don needed medical attention soon, so he took a deep breath and turned his focus on getting them out of the car.

Charlie unbuckled his seat belt and gasped as he discovered the bruise it had caused when they stopped. _Better that the alternative,_ he thought to himself. Charlie opened the door and was moderately surprised at the ease with which it swung free. He climbed out and moaned as he put weight on his right leg. _Okay, that knee is definitely screwed up._ Biting his tongue against the pain, Charlie hobbled around the truck to the passenger side.

The passenger side had not fared as well as the driver's side. Something had hit it hard on the way down, and Charlie frowned at the way the door was bent inward. He hobbled closer and tried the handle. It took a lot more effort, but Charlie finally managed to coax the door open. His eyes were automatically drawn to the bloody gash in Don's side, compliments of the twisted metal. Leaning inside the truck, Charlie unbuckled his brother's seat belt and rested a hand on Don's cheek. "Hey, Don?" he called softly. "Don? Wake up for me, bro!"

Don's eyes slowly fluttered open and he groaned loudly. "What the hell..."

"Accident," Charlie told him. "We went for a little ride down the mountain."

Don's bleary gaze found his face. "Joking… right?"

"I wish." Charlie began plotting the best way to hold onto his brother to assist him in getting out of the SUV. "Where do you hurt?"

Don bit back a bitter laugh. "Everywhere?" he weakly suggested.

"God, Don. I'm so sor-"

"Stop," Don barked. "From what I _do_ remember, it was a deer that caused this. Not your fault."

"Sure," he agreed half-heartedly. "Seriously, I need to know where I can grab you."

"Uh," Don thought aloud. "Left shoulder seems okay. Legs feel all right." He moved and quickly hissed in pain. "Um… just stay away from my right side. Feels like I lost a fight with something."

"You did," Charlie told him. "The car door."

"Right."

Charlie leaned in and gently grabbed his brother's left arm and hip. He slowly turned Don to face the door, trying to ignore his cries of pain so he could stay focused on his task. Eventually he had Don positioned correctly and together they slid him out of the truck. He swayed sharply and Charlie leaned him against the SUV. "Deep breaths, Don."

Charlie watched and held onto his brother's arm as Don took his advice. Suddenly his eyes widened and his face drained of color. Remembering his brother's earlier illness, Charlie quickly guided him to his knees and held his shoulders upright, patiently waiting as Don deposited the meager contents of his stomach onto the ground. Sensing that the moment had passed, he leaned his big brother against the crippled vehicle. "Hold on a sec," he said as he climbed back inside.

Charlie rummaged through the back seat until he found the bag that Alan had sent with them. He opened it up and pushed the food to the side until he found the small bottle of water he'd seen his father pack. The younger man climbed out of the truck and sat next to Don. Removing the cap, Charlie offered the bottle to his brother who gratefully took a couple of swallows. "Thanks," Don whispered.

"No problem," Charlie smiled. "Will you be okay here for a minute?" At Don's nod, he climbed back into the truck, this time to search for his cell phone, which seemed to have fallen out of his pocket. He searched for a few minutes and finally gave up, exiting the vehicle to sit next to Don. "You have your cell?"

"In my pocket," Don said. "Right side."

Charlie reached across his brother's body and carefully dug inside his pocket. His fingers closed around the phone and he quickly pulled it out, his triumphant grin fading as he saw its condition. Besides being coated in Don's blood, it looked like...

"It was on the losing end of the same fight I was," Don observed. "Yours?"

"I think I forgot it," Charlie confessed. "Dad is probably planning on hiding it for a few days to teach me a lesson."

"Don't know why he bothers," Don quietly teased. "It never works." Charlie smiled appreciatively at Don's attempt to ease his worry.

"Yeah, yeah." Charlie fiddled with the phone and sighed as his fears were confirmed – it was beyond dead. He peered upwards, hoping to see cars passing by, and shockingly realized that they had fallen too far to even see the road. He remembered going off the road around the guardrail, which meant that they hadn't left behind any visible signs of their passing._ Unless there were some skid marks,_ he thought. _But then there were always some skid marks dotting the mountain roads. No reason for any searchers to think ours were special._

"Charlie?"

He looked up and met Don's weary gaze. "Yeah?"

"What's the game plan?"

Charlie pondered his brother's question for a moment. "Well, we have no way to call for help, and we're not visible from the main road…"

"Not good," Don whispered as he leaned his head against the truck.

"No," Charlie agreed. "But we did fall more or less straight down the side of the mountain. So I think I could get us to the road where it runs down here."

"Think?"

"I'm sure," he stated firmly. "Besides, it's better than just sitting here waiting for help that may never come." _And watching you die,_ he added silently.

"Your call," Don said as he reached up and squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "I trust you."

Never before had three words ever instilled such pride and confidence in Charlie's heart. He smiled widely and stood up. "Alright then," he said as he stretched out his hand. "Let's get going."

"Okay, Charlie."

He awoke to the sound of his name, drowsily opening his eyes to find Don staring at him. "Morning, sleepyhead."

Charlie bolted upright as he realized the sun was already up. "Shoot! I didn't mean to sleep so long." He studied Don in the light of day, noting that he was still pale and obviously in pain. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better," Don admitted. "But I'll live."

Charlie reached out and placed a hand on his brother's forehead. Don was still too warm, but his fever seemed to have dropped a little bit.

Licking his lips thirstily, Don asked, "Don't suppose a guy could order some water around here?"

Charlie uncapped the bottle and held it to Don's lips, watching as he took a deep swallow. "More," Charlie insisted. Don opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. "No arguments – we've got a long journey ahead of us today." Don grudgingly drank a few more swallows and then turned his head away. The bottle was almost empty and Charlie knew he needed fluids too, so he reluctantly finished it off. He decided to keep the bottle in case they ran across some sort of water supply on their journey.

He stood and after a few awkward, painful grunts he had Don on his feet and leaning against him. Charlie had a fleeting thought that if they didn't find help tonight, he wouldn't be able to get Don up again. He shoved it aside and settled Don's arm across his shoulders. As they started walking Charlie noticed the trees a little further down the slope were becoming thicker, forming a solid canopy. He knew that the sun would be hot and that they had no water for relief, so he decided to alter their route. Certain that the shelter would be to their benefit, he angled them toward the trees.

--

"Finally!" Megan shouted as she got off the radio. David looked at her expectantly. "We got the chopper."

"Yes," David smiled. "That ought to cut our workload in half."

She nodded. "I'm having them fly over this area first and see what they can find down there."

The two agents stood on the edge of the road at the point where the skid marks disappeared. Although they both knew it was of no use, they looked as far down as they could. "I really hope they're down there," David whispered.

"And that they're okay," Megan added. She looked up. "Where's Alan?"

"He said he couldn't sit around and wait any longer so I let him borrow my car. He's driving the road himself, looking for any other signs of an accident."

Megan smiled sadly. "He's going to either kill them both or smother them like a mother hen when we find them."

"Hey, I've been at the Eppes house with an injury before," David reminded her. "You can bet good money on the mother hen routine."

Megan chuckled softly before growing serious. "Why do I have a feeling that they're going to need it?"

--

Charlie worriedly looked at Don. His brother had been stumbling more and more as the day wore on, and Charlie was afraid he wasn't going to last much longer. "Don?"

"…'M here."

"You're okay," Charlie told him. "We've just got to go a little further."

"…Keep sayin' that," Don grouchily replied.

"I know, but you promised you wouldn't give up, remember?" Still studying Don's face, he asked, "You want to take a break?"

"Might not get… going again," Don warned him.

"Sure you will," Charlie promised him. "I'll make you."

Don weakly smiled at Charlie's positive attitude. "…'Kay. Break would be good."

Charlie found a large tree and, with the greatest of care, lowered Don to sit against it. He settled himself next to him and enjoyed the moment as he caught his breath. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, listening to the breeze as it rustled through the trees.

"Charlie."

He looked at Don. "Yes?"

"Need… to say something."

Charlie sensed what was coming and vehemently shook his head. "No. You don't."

Don sighed. "Humor… older brother."

"Nothing humorous about this."

"Dammit, Charlie." Don's voice was thick with emotion. "I need… to say this."

"Alright," Charlie relented as tears formed in his eyes.

"You've done good," Don started. "Today, but… everything else. It's been great working with you so closely." Don took a deep breath. "Dad's proud… and Mom would have been… but I'm the proudest. You're a hell of a brother, Charlie… Sorry I didn't say it enough."

"Don," Charlie warned, not liking where this conversation was headed.

"I... love you, Charlie." Don paused as he drew another breath. Charlie realized that it wasn't just the emotional confession taking its toll on Don, but that his injuries must have taken a turn for the worse. "Don't ever… forget that." Don's voice faded away with a sigh.

"Don?" He scrambled to his knees and pressed his face into Don's. "Don? _Don!_" His brother's eyes remained closed, not even twitching as Charlie's breath floated across them. Charlie pressed his fingers to Don's throat and cried in anguish as he failed to find a pulse. He laid his ear against Don's chest but heard and felt nothing. "No, Don! You promised!" Charlie felt hot tears flooding down his cheeks. "Don," he whispered brokenly. "Come back to me..."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

"We've got a black SUV down here."

Megan grabbed her radio. "Say again?"

"A black SUV," the chopper pilot radioed. "Looks like government plates."

"Any sign of survivors?" She looked at David as they both held their breath.

After an eternity the pilot answered. "Looks like two sets of tracks moving away from the vehicle."

"Thank God," Megan sighed. "Can you follow them?"

"Will do," the pilot assured her. "Give me five."

David was already dialing Alan's phone. "Alan? They found Don's SUV."

"And?" Alan begged.

"There are two sets of tracks moving away from it. The chopper's trying to track them as we speak."

"I'll be right there," Alan told him.

"Helo One to Agent Reeves," the chopper pilot radioed again.

"Go ahead."

"Followed the tracks into the tree line. Looks like they were seeking shelter in the woods."

"Can you land there?"

"No ma'am – too steep. But we could drop a rescue crew down. Raise them back up in a basket."

"Sounds like a plan," Megan replied. "Can you call up your crew and get them in there?"

"I'll have to go pick them up. Be about an hour and we'll be in business."

"Roger that," Megan answered as Alan's car appeared over the hill. She led David over to share the good news.

--

Charlie leaned against the rough bark of the tree, the warm breeze dancing across his cheeks. His tears had long since dried up, leaving only tell-tale tracks in their wake. Staring ahead, yet seeing nothing, he sat as still as a statue as he held his brother to his chest. Don lay unmoving in his arms, his head resting on his brother's shoulder. Charlie's head rested atop Don's, yet he was oblivious to the feel of the soft brown hair against his cheek. Don had died. His lungs had given up, refusing to take in another breath. His heart had stopped, deciding that beating was just too much work.

But Don – his _brother_ – hadn't given up, finally responding to Charlie's frantic calls and CPR. Don had began breathing, had ordered his heart to resume beating, and now he lay cocooned in Charlie's arms, living to fight another day.

"Thank you," Charlie whispered softly as he hugged Don even closer to him. "Thank you for coming back to me."

Charlie lapsed back into silence as he thought of how he was going to carry Don by himself. As much as he wanted to, he knew his knee would never be able to bear all of their weight. Charlie briefly toyed with the idea of some kind of travois, but was too tired to figure out the best way to make one.

He idly noticed a thumping sound in the distance and his weary mind slowly began to place it. A helicopter? Were there rescuers searching for them after all? Charlie wanted nothing more to sprint back out of the woods and wave them down, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Don, afraid that his brother would pass away in his absence. Instead, Charlie held the other man even tighter, closed his eyes, and made the most desperate prayer he'd ever done before.

As the minutes ticked by, Charlie began to worry that he should have gone for help after all. But then he heard a loud rustling of brush and two men's voices calling out. "Agent Eppes? Charles Eppes? Are you here?"

"Over here!" Charlie screamed frantically. His spirits lifted as two rescue workers came trotting toward him. "Thank God," he whispered in relief.

"Charles Eppes?" the first rescuer asked as he knelt by his side. At Charlie's nod, he smiled. "We've been looking for you two. I'm Pete, that's Rob."

Rob winked at the younger man as he radioed back to the chopper. "We've got them." He watched his partner check Don's vitals. Pete nodded and the other man continued, "They're both alive. Repeat… they are alive."

Charlie couldn't help the smile that lit up his face at those words. Pete smiled back. "Don't you worry – we're going to take really good care of you two." Charlie nodded and answered a never-ending stream of questions from the medic. In a daze, he stood and followed the two men as they carried his brother out of the woods. Charlie peered up at the loud helicopter hovering above them as Don was slowly raised up in the bright orange basket. Next was his turn and he soon found himself on board the chopper. Pete and Rob quickly joined him and hollered at the pilot to head for the hospital.

Only then did Charlie allow himself to let go and slip into darkness.

--

"My sons," Alan demanded as he stormed up to the ER's admission desk. "Charles and Don Eppes – where are they?"

The nurse opened her mouth to protest but stopped short as Megan and David flashed their badges. "Don Eppes is a special agent with the FBI," David told her. "Charlie is his brother. We need to know their conditions, please."

"Of course," the nurse nodded as she checked her files. "Ah yes, they were brought in a little while ago..." She hesitated as she read the list. "Yes, they were taken back immediately to be worked on. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the doctor's office and you can wait in private."

"That would be very kind of you," Megan smiled.

They followed the nurse to a modest-sized office and each took a seat in the comfortable plush chairs. Alan silently stared at the deep, rich wood finish on the desktop as he thought about his sons. "Do you think they'll be all right?"

Megan glanced at David. "The medics sounded hopeful when they radioed in. Don't you think so?"

"Yes," David agreed. "Very hopeful. I'm sure they'll be fine, Alan."

"Poor Donny," Alan whispered. "He was already so sick..."

"But he had Charlie with him," Megan pointed out. "And I know that Charlie took good care of him."

"I just don't know what I'd do if I lost them..." Alan trailed off. He shook his head and forced the thoughts aside. "Look at me being so negative. Of course they'll be okay." He met the two agents' stares. "And do you know _why_ they'll be okay?"

"Why?" David asked.

"Because they're the two most frustratingly stubborn boys a father could ever have. And it's that determination that will get them through this."

Megan beamed at Alan. "I can definitely believe that."

"Ah, you're here for the Eppes men?" a tall, silver haired man in a white lab coat asked as he strode into the room.

"Yes," Alan nodded, his voice dropping a bit as his confidence wavered. He felt like a man about to be given a life or death sentence.

"I'm Doctor Andrews, and I am handling both of your sons cases."

"Both?" Alan asked curiously.

"Yes," the older man smiled. "Charlie's injuries, while painful, weren't life threatening and didn't require immediate treatment. He seemed a little reluctant to leave his brother, so I decided it would be easier if we kept them together."

"What about Don?" Alan croaked, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.

"Don's case was a little more severe, I'm afraid. He was badly dehydrated, a combination of blood loss and a recent, ongoing bout with salmonella."

"Food poisoning," Alan whispered. "No wonder he seemed so ill."

"Yes," Andrews nodded. "It would have been mild in the early stages, but the effects were exacerbated by the blood loss."

"But he's going to be all right?" asked Alan.

"Yes, he will," Andrews smiled. "But he is in for a rather lengthy recovery. I wish I had better news about that."

"My sons are going to be all right," Alan replied. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"Charlie?"

Charlie opened his eyes at the sound of his father's voice. "Dad," he whispered sleepily.

"Yes," Alan whispered back as he stroked his youngest son's hair. "I'm here. How are you feeling?"

"Tired." As if on cue Charlie let out a huge yawn, bringing a smile to his father's face. "Where am I?"

"UCLA hospital," Alan told him.

Charlie's eyes widened and his heart rate sped up. "Don?" he asked in a panic.

"Shh, calm down, Charlie. He's okay."

"You're sure?"

"See for yourself," his father answered as he stepped away from Charlie's bedside. Charlie got up on his elbows and peered over the rail to find his brother sleeping in the neighboring bed.

"He's okay?" Charlie repeated.

"Yes," Alan assured him. "He's sleeping like a baby."

"You're sure?" Charlie's voice softened. "You checked?" He moved to sit up but Alan placed a restraining hand on his shoulder and pressed him back on to the mattress.

"I'm sure, Charlie." Alan took a deep breath and perched on his youngest son's bed. "Does this have to do with what happened? Is that why you're so worried?"

Charlie shrugged and remained silent, not quite ready to come to terms with what had happened in the mountains.

"I know what you did for your brother," Alan quietly told him. He waited for a response but the younger man maintained his silence. "I know Don stopped breathing. I know you performed CPR." Alan reached out and cupped Charlie's cheek. "I know you saved his life, Charlie."

After another minute of silence Charlie looked up and met his father's eyes. "He died, Dad," his voice hitched as he spoke. "He promised he wouldn't give up… and then he _died_."

"But he _didn't_ die, Charlie – you kept him alive."

Charlie shook his head emphatically. "He _did_ die. He told me..." Charlie dropped his gaze to his lap as tears threatened to fall. "He told me that he... loved me. And then he died."

Alan sighed in frustration. Of course Charlie would say he died because technically he had, even if only for a moment. "Okay, Charlie, so he died. But you brought him back. He came back _for you_. Don't you see that?"

Charlie looked up at Alan with a hopeful expression. "For me?"

"For you," Alan promised. "He's your big brother – he would do anything for you. Just like you'd do anything for him."

"I would," Charlie nodded. He looked at Don and felt an overwhelming urge to touch him – to feel him alive and breathing. "I want to see him."

Alan looked puzzled. "Can't you see him from-"

"No," Charlie interrupted. "I want to see him up close. I need to touch him and see for myself that he's okay."

"Oh. I don't know about that. You have a head injury and a bum knee..." Alan saw the pleading look in his son's eyes and sighed in defeat. "Alright," He grumbled. "Let me get a chair for you."

A few minutes later, after a lot of adjusting and manipulating the various tubes and IV lines sprouting from Charlie's body, Alan had him seated next to Don's bed. "Is that okay?" he inquired.

His youngest son nodded silently as he reached out and grasped Don's hand. He gently squeezed before lightly trailing his fingers up Don's arm, briefly resting them on his uninjured shoulder. Charlie's hand traveled down to rest over Don's heart, lingering there as he felt the reassuring heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he smiled as his hand rose and fell in time with his brother's breathing. Charlie then moved his hand to rest against Don's cheek and he lightly stroked his thumb across his brother's dry lips.

"You're really okay," Charlie breathed.

"Tickles," Don spoke, surprising his two family members.

"_Don?_"

"Stop," Don weakly chuckled. "…tickles." His eyes opened slowly.

Charlie began to laugh. "Sorry, bro."

"Can tell," he growled softly.

"How do you feel, Donny?" Alan asked as he stepped toward the bed.

"Been better," Don replied as he smiled at Charlie. "But… I'll live."

The significance of the words was not lost on Charlie. "Yes," he grinned, remembering their conversation that morning in the woods. "You will."

Alan was confused but too happy that his sons were awake to ponder the exchange any further. "Go back to sleep, Don. We're not going anywhere." He stroked Don's hair until his eyelids grew heavy and he finally surrendered to sleep. Alan turned his attention to Charlie. "You too, young man. Back to bed."

They maneuvered Charlie back to lie in his own bed and Alan lovingly tucked him in. "You see?" he asked.

"See what?" Charlie queried.

"He'll do anything for you," Alan stated again. "You sit with him and tell him he's okay, and he opens his eyes – for _you_."

Charlie smiled widely as he snuggled into his pillow. "I guess you're right, Dad."

"Did I just hear you say that I was _right_?" Alan asked in shock.

His only answer was the soft snores coming from two beds.

--

"It's not fair."

Alan sighed as his oldest son pouted. "Don-"

"I think it's fair," Charlie snickered.

"Charlie-"

"You're a brat," Don interrupted his father. "You know that, Chuck?"

"Don't call me Chuck," Charlie shot back. With an evil grin he added, "_Donald._"

"Why you little-"

"Enough!" Alan yelled at the top of his voice. "I swear you two are acting like a couple of five year olds." He rolled his eyes as both of his sons tried to look innocent – and miserably failed. "Charlie got to come home sooner because his condition wasn't as severe."

"He had a concussion!" Don protested. "And he's still limping because of his knee."

"Shall we bring up your list of ailments?" his brother challenged. "Food poisoning, blood loss, dehydration-"

"Fine," the other man grumbled. "You win."

Alan rolled his eyes as he dropped into his favorite chair. He studied his sons – finally home where they belonged – as they playfully argued back and forth. He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. Alan had been so afraid he might never get to enjoy a moment like this again.

"So," Charlie sighed contentedly as he propped his feet on the coffee table. "What's for dinner?"

"Am I fixing it?" Alan raised a questioning eyebrow.

Charlie slouched in his seat and tried to look pitiful. "Well, we _are_ still recuperating."

"Is that right?" Alan snorted. He glanced at Don. "You too, I suppose?"

"Like he said," Don gestured at his brother as he, too, sank further into the cushions. "I was hurt worse."

"So you're telling me that you two aren't well enough to get up and help me with dinner? Not even to set the table?"

The brothers exchanged mischievous glances before shrugging at their father.

"I see." Alan rose from his chair and made a show of groaning as he stretched. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take Aunt Irene up on her offer to come over and help..."

"I'll set the table!" they called in unison as they darted past their father, leaving Alan alone in the living room, laughing harder than he had in a long time.

The End


End file.
